Tuesday, January 28, 2014

The Cupboards (Poem 301)

(A bit of nonsense for you tonight...)

Impatiently, the cupboards 
groaned, all too aware 
their cherry tone, and 
bright brass pulls
had become passé.  
Trembling with impatience, 
they bared all to a consultant,
then panted through 
a painting, and put on 
a bit of bling. 
Darting toward modernity
they sacrificed capacity.
Their youthful glow,
they pray, might hide
the fact that they
have less inside. 

(c) 2014, by Hannah Six

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